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It’s 3:35.  Yes, in the morning.  I often wake, regardless of the hour, brimming with ideas.  Often, I curse the fact that my best thinking comes when it shouldn’t– in the car, in the shower, in the middle of the night.  But, almost as often, I am stirred from my sleep, compelled to jot down a at least a few bits and pieces.

So, I’ve been sitting here, working on some posts, some poems, some new perspectives on my life.  Being 3:38 in the morning and a work night,  I was about to return to bed until I noticed the moon pouring through the “reading room” window onto my day bed.  (Ironically, spilling right onto my journal and laptop.)

I had to lie in that light.

And, now, at 3:40, I am wondering should I sleep in it even at the risk of offending my husband.

There must be something magical to absorb.

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Hey!  Just wanted to ask you to keep an eye out for some changes to the blog and to the web site to which the blog is attached.  I have plans to revamp the original website to be more of an e-zine, lit mag sort-of thing. I also plan on making some changes to the blog itself.  I’m pretty excited about my new ideas and I’ll let you know as the changes occur. Of course, I would love your support.  Thanks!  Em

Yeah, I wish I were writing this because I did, indeed, demolish something.  A junk car, perhaps.  With a can a kerosene and a hot match.  A pile of sexist propaganda.  The smile off of Sporticus of Lazytown’s too-handsome superhero face.  (Even though I did catch myself in the middle of a fairly indecent display of my inner groove-thang during the ‘Let’s Bake a Cake’ song as I searched for the remote so I could –reluctantly???-turn the creepy show off.)  Or, even better, maybe I could take claim for the demolition of our kitchen using only my two practiced hands, a hammer, and a putty knife.

But, no.

Instead, this evening, I ate dinner out of a Zoo Pals turtle bowl cross-legged in a pile of mashed flax flakes on the Oriental rug on the living room floor.  And, yeah, I was drinking organic french wine from a Burt and Ernie cup.

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